Summer of 1996
by b4tmans
Summary: Daryl Dixon was the town's "bad boy" while Norah Carter was the new "girl next door". Highschool AU, Daryl-centric, Daryl/OC.
1. Chapter I

**" Under My Thumb "**

**C**hapter I

* * *

**D**aryl Dixon had the outer image of a bad boy on the run and the inner soul of a young boy who loved filling his mind with copious amounts of knowledge and stories.

He was cocooned in rumors and speculation, most at the hand of his older brother: Merle Dixon. He was avoided by classmates, often chosen last in gym, and always lacking a science partner, making his junior year a lonely one. He hated school, hated the people in it, and most of all, the teachers who looked at him like he was some kind of criminal _all for being a member of the Dixon family. _

It wasn't as if his home life was much better. His father was a drunk, often beating the living daylights out him and Merle for petty reasons, if no reason at all. _No wonder Merle preferred juvy over this._

He often stalked onto the school bus with bruises that seemed to become the catalysts for stories his other classmates would work up.

"He was beaten by the cops, you know," and "I heard he beat the shit outta one guy who wouldn't give 'im any smokes..."

Daryl Dixon's life sucked.

Well, that was all before The Carters moved into the house beside him, replacing the "for sale" sign with one that read "sold".

He remember that summer morning more than anything. The sky was a placid blue mirror with an occasional breeze stirring the hot rays of the sun and giving relief to the movers who struggled with box after box. From his open window, he watched the men struggle up the perfect green lawn and into the new home, dropping boxes here and there.

Behind him, the radio began to play the kind of music he liked. The beat of The Rolling Stones made his foot tap as he leaned out the window to watch the movers scurry about like ants. 'Under My Thumb' had apparently been playing too loud, since with no given warning, there was a young woman blinking up at him from her new lawn. Daryl had yet to notice, his blue eyes trained on the two fatter men hauling a couch out of the truck.

She was short, around the same age as him, with bright green eyes and a cute nose. Her blue sundress allowed for a good bit of skin to be seen along her freckled chest and shoulders. Knobby knees poked out beneath the hem of the dress and her bare feet were swathed in the grass. A smile, one that shone of curiosity and amusement, was thrown Daryl Dixon's way.

He did look awfully funny, hanging out of the window and mumbling along with the radio. She called out:

"You like The Stones?"

And Daryl physically jumped, the back of his head coming into contact with the bottom of window with a heavy _thwack. _Daryl swore up and down, cradling the back of his head before slamming the window shut, the panes rattles in their holdings.

The girl quickly covered her mouth, stifling a laugh. Before she could call out to the boy again, she was called over by her mother, putting an end to their first encounter.

Daryl had sat below the window, peeking over the edge of the sill until she left. He hadn't wanted to embarrass himself like that, especially not in front of a girl like that. Daryl had sat there for a while, sneaking looks at the new neighbor's, and every now and then, he saw the girl glance up at his window, an apologetic look on her face.

Their next encounter occurred when he stumbled into the Southern heat to retrieve the mail. After all, Merle wasn't going to do it and his father was a hung-over heap of a mess on the couch, guzzling a warm beer and watching some shitty television program. He was quick to hop off the porch and shuffle down the driveway past the old station wagon resting on rusted bearings. One hand tugged the rusted metal box open while the other reached into to grasp the mass of paper inside.

"So, you like The Stones, huh?"

Daryl nearly threw the newspaper at her in shock. The girl had been on the porch, waiting for him to stalk out of the house and into the warm atmosphere. Her mailbox, directly next to his, was new and shiny and nice and he suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. Tugging at the collar of his old t-shirt, he gave a curt nod and shut the mailbox without a word.

He started up the driveway, his eyes on the envelopes he was shuffling through. She pouted, blinking. Running, following his movements up her own lawn, she called out again. "Hey! Wait! What's your name?"

He paused, furrowed his brow, before retorting with the one thing he had always told her type. "What's it to you?"

She looked hurt, her gaze falling. "Sorry. I... Sorry. Just wanted t'know. I'm new. I haven't really met anybody. Sorry."

Suddenly, something rushed into his chest, constricting his heartbeat. It was guilt. He swallowed away his sourness, sighing before placing the mound of letters atop the rusted station wagon and stalking towards her.

The white picket fence that separated them was ignored.

"Quit apologizin'. Sorry. Ain't lotsa girls like you who are very nice t'me."

She blinked. "Oh. You think I meant to embarrass you the other day!" She giggled softly, shaking her head, blonde wisps drifting in the breeze. "M'sorry I startled you. I heard the radio. I hear it a lot. You listen to good stuff."

A smile almost broke through his mask. "I'm Daryl."

"Norah. What year are you?"

"M'a senior this comin' year. You?"

She smiled and nodded. "Same. You wanna come over for lemonade?"

And, so, that was their second encounter. He sipped lemonade with her on the front porch and they basked in the Georgian sun for an hour or two, talking and being friendly. She told him about how she heard his radio every night, and he told her how he heard her singing in her room in the evenings. It had been nice, talking with someone who had no ill-intentions or someone who was scared of him.

They talked until Merle Dixon screamed across the lawn for Daryl to get his ass back home and stop flirting with the new girl. He apologized quickly before thanking her for the lemonde and making his way down the lawn.

Norah was sweet, a remotely innocent kid who just wanted to make a friend.

In his own way, Daryl was the same.

And later that night, when Daryl took a licking for forgetting the mail outside, Norah heard the screams of a fight and became worried, fearing for her new friend. She leaned out the window for a long while, waiting for the radio to play.

It never did.


	2. Chapter II

" **The Seeker "**

**C**hapter II

* * *

**D**aryl Dixon was, by no means, a set match for Norah Carter.

In his eyes, she was a goddess and he was mere mortal, falling prey to her charm and smile and laugh and— well, you get the point. There was something about her sundress and long blonde tresses and freckle spattered nose that made him eager to befriend her. Whether or not it was attraction, Daryl didn't really know.

He did know she was outside waiting for him, like she always did.

Daryl only wished he didn't have battle wounds to show her.

His eye had turned a nasty shade of purple and yellow, while his busted lips was slowly healing. He found he often chewed his lips nervously whenever he was with Norah. The teen had to make a note not to do so.

He had heard Norah humming outside his window, the sturdy creek of the tire swing chewing away at his ears. Curious eyes peeked over the windowsill as he spotted her, head down and eyes locked on her bare feet that were dragging among the blades of grass.

Sighing, the teen tossed his book closed before making his way out to her yard, making sure to close the porch door as quietly as possible.

Norah had just been _thinking _about him when he decided to make an appearance.

Her grin only grew wider when she spotted the youngest of the Dixon brothers from across the lawn.

Daryl's stride was one filled with attitude; one that, if you didn't know the guy, you would be scared shitless of. But, Norah was used to it. The grunts, the crossed arms, the curses. She no longer grew nervous around the Southerner and instead, found herself smiling whenever he was near.

The two had become closer. After lemonade and late-night radio sharing, Norah was beginning to grow fond of Daryl; though, she wasn't quite too sure if it was a mutual disposition. However, the youngest Dixon brother would always saunter on over after dinner had settled in her stomach and she was left to pick the corn out of her teeth discreetly.

They made quite the pair. Daryl Dixon, sporting a black eye and a busted lip; and Norah Carter, a pretty little intellectual in sundress.

Daryl still didn't get it.

Norah genuinely liked him, which was odd for him thanks to Merle, but he supposed that was all because she hadn't really _met _Merle yet. Only seen the southern thug rumbling up on his motorcycle and leaving the rickety Dixon house in a dry cloud of exhaust and dust that seemed to reek of showing-off. Daryl thought it was funny the way Norah would treat him as if he was _a normal human being. _He wasn't exactly used to that one. Normally, the hick was treated like trash, but he had apparently been able to weasel his way into her cute little head and eventually to her beating heart.

The tire swing had become one of Norah's favorite spots. It was on the western side of the house, allowing the blonde to be able to peek over the fence splitting her yard from Daryl's. If she swung high enough, pumped her legs hard enough, lurched farther enough? She could just see the flash of brown grass popping up through an abandoned tire laying beside the white picket fence.

Today was different, however. Norah had a lot on her mind and opted for dragging her toes in the grass as she slowly lulled about, swinging left and right. Daryl assumed the blonde hadn't seen him, and the moment he spoke, he was met with bright eyes and copious freckles.

"Th' hell are you doin'?" Daryl's brow knotted, "Yer always out here, swingin' away."

Norah blinked into the sun before glancing at Daryl. "I like it here. It's nice. You wanna watch with me?"

Daryl shoved the swing once, causing Norah to glide to the left. She laughed quietly as Daryl asked: "Watch what?"

"The sunset, you redneck," she grinned as he flipped her off.

"Ain't that one of those romantic things?" Daryl leaned against the maple tree, arms crossed. "Watchin' sunsets together an' kissin' under the stars an' crap like that?"

Norah made a face. "Don't ask me. I wouldn't know."

Daryl was quiet for a moment. "Th' hell is _that _supposed t' mean?"

Norah cast a glance his way, pushing the ground with her feet. The blades were cool on her feet, a welcomed thing thanks to the humid weight of summer dragging her down. She spun around, shrugging.

"Y'mean you've never done any a' that?"

Norah shook her head no.

Daryl blinked. "Yer lyin'."

She laughed. "Not lying. Never have. I mean, I dunno."

It wasn't that she was _uncomfortable _around the subject, it was just that the moment she started thinking about it, she saw herself with Daryl; she herself kissing that damn busted lip better and kissing that damn black eye away.

Daryl coughed. "I cannot believe you an' yer boyfriend haven't done all that shit."

Swinging in his direction, she gave an honest glance up at him. "What boyfriend?"

Daryl's face twisted into one of disbelief.

That had to be a lie. Norah had to have a boyfriend. Some handsome scholar student from some fancy upstate town with nice hair and nice clothes and—

"What? What's that face for?"

"Yer fuckin' kiddin', right?"

"About what?"

"Not havin' a boyfriend."

Norah shook her head again and stood. Plopping down on the grass beside the tree, she pointed at the sunset. It's hues left the clouds painted a tangerine pink, citrusy colors seeping into the sky as she reclined and left her finger dance around in the air. "See that?"

Daryl slid down the tree trunk, reluctantly plopping down beside Norah. "Sunsets are stupid. Stupid colors all mashed together. Ugly."

Norah ignored the comment, and instead watched the sun dip low beneath the clouds. There was a comfortable moment of silence between the two, one another blinking into the colorful sky.

"What about you?" She finally piped up, turning to blink up at Daryl, "Girlfriend? _Boy_friend?"

For the first time, Daryl smiled at Norah and laughed lightheartedly. His eyes brightened slightly. "A girlfriend? Naw. Never liked anyone enough. They're all too giggly and cute. Not my type. Merle definitely had a few a' that type, though."

Norah giggled softly. "Merle also has gonnorhea, Daryl. That's what you get for sleeping around with the giggly, cute type."

Daryl watched her laugh and smirked. "I dunno. They must be doin' somethin' right."

"Oh, shut up, Dixon," she smiled playfully, "We all can't be dumb blondes."

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call ya' smart..." he was kidding of course, but he knew it would rattle her cage. Daryl knew it would push her enough to get a rise out of her and that was all he wanted. A bit of entertain and physical contact that wasn't a punch from his own father.

She gave him a shove, hard enough to make him and falter and slide to the right. Norah grinned triumphantly, smirking as he nestled himself back against the tree. Silence overcame them again within minutes.

But, Daryl wasn't watching the sunset.

He was watching Norah.

Without much pretense, he felt her fingertips brush against his own.

He saw her stiffen, bright eyes fleeting to the contact and watching for a moment.

"You're getting romantic, huh, Daryl?"

"Oh, shut up, Carter."

She was quiet for a moment before knotting her fingers in his and simply shrugging. "Didn't say I mind."

Daryl had never seen a more beautiful sunset.


End file.
